


I've Always Got You

by Moransroar



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:24:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3986524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was going to be Sebastian and him from then on. Jim and Sebastian. Moriarty and Moran.</p><p>And nothing, nothing would ever come between them without going unpunished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Always Got You

**Author's Note:**

> Another birthday fic! This one's for Tumblr's snakeoilsalesdepartment who requested a mormor wedding/proposal/planning. Happy birthday love <3
> 
> (If you want this, go to Tumblr and message me through Murderforprofit, or shoot me a message on here!)

Never before in his life had Jim Moriarty felt this nervous while doing the simplest of everyday tasks – dressing himself. It wasn’t even different from any other given day. And yet he could feel the nerves coursing through his body with every beat of his heart, rushing through his veins and making his heart beat furiously against his throat. The man took a calming breath while buckling up his belt, over his dress shirt, and then smoothing the crème white shirt to make sure everything was as perfect as he had imagined it would be.

Jim wasn’t one for these kinds of things, or for grand celebrations in general, but the prospect of this particular celebration was rather appealing. A glance at the clock told him that it was almost four, almost time. He was alone, standing in front of the body length mirror, wondering why on earth he hadn’t begun dressing himself sooner. The Irishman had spent about half an hour nervously rearranging object in the room, just to keep himself busy while no one was around.

He liked it that way, however. Being alone. The man knew it would be a rather vulnerable moment of his, and he had rather not have anyone watching him dress in another one of his pressed suits, even though that didn’t seem like that big of a deal.

Jim was almost ready. The only thing that he needed to do next was calmly tie his smooth black tie, and slip on the charcoal jacket, and he would be ready to leave. Precisely at four. Jim liked to be on time, especially on this occasion. God forbid he would come late. Who knew what would happen then.

But his fingers were trembling, and God help him he finally wished that there was someone there in the room with him, simply to talk nonsense to him to he could concentrate on the babbling instead of his shaking digits. As if someone had heard him screaming bloody murder, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Jim called automatically, glancing in the mirror so he could see the door as it opened, revealing – much to his surprise – his mother.

Jim turned around with relatively wide eyes, the dark orbs fixed on that familiar face, one he hadn’t thought he would see, and especially not around there and around that particular time and date. To say it was surprise that painted his face, was an understatement. All sort of emotions crossed him, the day having brought out the worst in him, and yet his mother only smiled at him.

“You look gorgeous, darling,” said she, voice soft and vulnerable, careful as if it would waver if she were to talk louder. Jim supposed that might actually be the case. People were pathetically emotional that day, including himself.

Not a word left his lips, but he turned around to face the woman and stride forwards. He could see a quick flash of fear in the golden eyes of the other, but that quickly dissipated as soon as he had his arms around her waist and his face buried against her shoulder. He didn’t cry. For one, because he didn’t do that, and also because he didn’t want to ruin his mother’s beautiful dress as well as his own suit.

Elizabeth reciprocated the hug a little carefully at first, but soon it was as passionate as mother and son, reunited after years and years of forced distance. You don’t know how much you miss a mother’s hug until you have gone without for so long. Even the woman’s scent was still the same, Jim thought, still that particular perfume that he would always smell whenever he came near her room, or when he stood next to her in the kitchen.

“I’ve missed you too, baby” Elizabeth said softly, and Jim let out a quiet and nervous laugh against her skin.

It was quiet for another few moments, until Jim took a deep breath and realised it was still almost four. Five to four, to be exact. Five minutes until he really did have to leave the safe confines of the room and get out there, get to where he was supposed to be. In someone else’s arms.

“Will you tie my tie?” Asked the Irishman softly, his normally hell-bent demeanour gone with the wind and replaced by a kind of soft-spoken gentleness that could only be brought out by very few people. By two, to be exact.

Elizabeth nodded and Jim gave her the strip of smooth fabric, turning his collar up while the woman draped the tie over her son’s neck.

“I didn’t think you would come,” Jim said with a small sigh, barely able to really meet the other’s gaze, even though that was fixed on the task at hand.

“If it’s any consolation, neither did I until this morning.”

It wasn’t a consolation, Jim thought, it was actually something that made him all the more glad that she was here now, while simultaneously a little angry that she had still considered not going. He was her son, for crying out loud. Still, he could understand. It wasn’t exactly the ideal occurrence, according to family tradition and religion. Jim had never cared much for that, so why would he now? If he was happy, his mother should be happy for him.

“I decided I didn’t want to miss this,” said Elizabeth when there came no word from her son, and she finished with the tie and smoothed it over his chest, handing him the golden pin that lay on a glass saucer on the small table next to the mirror. Jim looked into the mirror and applied the pin, reaching over to pick up his jacket and slip into it with practised ease.

“I’m glad you did, mother.”

A look was shared between them, and for the first time that day – despite his nerves – Jim found himself smiling sincerely, which brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face as well. And in no time, they were both laughing, the woman’s laugh soft and tingling and Jim’s surprisingly high-pitched. He would later blame it on the constant fluttering in his stomach.

“I can’t believe it, my baby boy,” Elizabeth sighed, and cupped Jim’s face in her hands, “All grown up.”

Jim squirmed away and wrinkled his nose, shaking his head with a big grin. This was just the cherry on top of the cake that would make a perfect day, and he realised that he didn’t have to be afraid. Why would he be? His mother was there, the love of his life was waiting on the other side of the big, dark wooden door, and all his appointments had been safely cancelled or postponed.

It was a good day.

Jim snorted, “Cliché, mother.”

They both laughed, and Jim’s eyes shifted anxiously to the clock on the wall again. Two minutes. Elizabeth noticed, and plucked a single hair from the Irishman’s shoulder, giving him a once-over.

“Well you look gorgeous. It’s no surprise it has come to this.”

Jim gave a grateful little smile before turning to the door, figuring that he would have to walk through that soon, that he would have to calm his insides and his anxious thoughts and just.. walk. Because that was all, he just had to walk. And then stand still for some time. And then..

He patted his hands across his suit jacket, frantically searching for something. Elizabeth gave him a vague look, but when she realised what he was probably looking for, she turned and shuffled around the room. It wasn’t in his suit jacket. It wasn’t in the pocket of his trousers, not the left nor the right.

“I need it,” Jim murmured under his breath, shaking his head as he went over all his pockets one more time, “I can’t have lost it. It’s important. Just a bloody… bloody piece of paper..”

In the window sill, there stood a small tray. Ceramic, no doubt. Jim had sat there before he had gotten dressed, the window open to let out the smoke. He was a nervous smoker; only taking a fag when things got particularly tense. And now, God forbid, now was one of those moments. The cigarette had gone out of the window when it was done, after which the window had been closed again.

One minute.

What else Jim had been doing there, was read his vows. On a small card of tough paper, he had scribbled down the most important things to say in case he forgot. He had an impeccable memory, yet still, in a time like this, he didn’t want to trust on just that. Sebastian would laugh at seeing him this nervous about something like this. He always laughed about Jim being in such a state.

But there was no Sebastian now to comfort him and ease his stress with a simple laugh. Jim had to do it on his own. Luckily, however, did the paper still lie in the ceramic tray by the window. And thank God did Elizabeth notice it.

Jim stuck it in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, just in case, before brushing his fingers down the charcoal fabric one more time, and glancing at the clock yet again.

Time was up.

Jim looked over at his mother, who stood by the door already with a smile on her face, obviously holding back tears. Jim had never thought that he would see his mother on an occasion like this, seeming as he had thought that she wasn’t exactly… tolerant of an occurrence like this. Not like this.

She held out her arm, and Jim’s heart fluttered at the sight.

 

She was going to walk him down the aisle.

 

Slowly, Jim stepped forward and took a deep breath, their arms linking the moment they heard the music start just beyond the doors. The Irishman had hoped they wouldn’t be playing the music, because Sebastian knew very well that his feet never cooperated to rhythm, but the other man had insisted on it. And so, of course, Jim had given in.

So the music played, and Jim clung to Elizabeth’s arm as the doors opened to reveal the beautiful interior of the small church they had chosen for the occasion. Ironic, what with their occupations, but yet his lover and he had decided upon a rather traditional wedding. Snow white flowers decorated the walls and wooden benches along the sides, dark green leaves forming a beautiful contrast. And it was everything Jim had hoped it would be.

But the most beautiful thing about the event, was of course the familiar figure waiting at the end of the aisle, his back obviously tense, and he waited a moment before turning, deliberately slowly. And Jim could read the nerves on his face, but that quickly shifted to surprise, the small crease in the blond’s forehead disappearing as soon as their eyes met.

Jim didn’t get to see Sebastian in a suit all too often, but when he did, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the man. Never had been able to. But standing there made everything all too real, made the realness of the situation strike the both of them hard. Jim shivered, and Elizabeth squeezed his arm a little tighter.

The Irishman was grateful for the woman beside him, holding him tightly. But he also knew that he would have to let go soon, sooner than he would want to. They were coming closer and closer to the end of the aisle, where the benches stopped and there was a small set of steps towards the priest. And towards Sebastian.

Afraid of letting go, they wavered by the end, and Elizabeth turned to him to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear.

“Go get him, baby. I’m proud of you.”

His arm was let go of, and he was left standing alone, feeling dizzy and too light to stay upright. But he wasn’t going to faint, because that wasn’t a dignified thing to do. He didn’t want to pass out. He never passed out. He took a few breaths, silence falling in the church, and he could almost _feel_ all the eyes of their family and friends burning holes in his back. He would have to do something soon. He would at least have to lift his head and look up at Sebastian.

And then there was a hand on his, and a form beside him, standing close. In his frenzied train of thoughts, Jim hadn’t realised that Sebastian had come down the few steps to take him by the hand, and he was now leading him towards the priest to begin the service.

Jim looked up at last to meet a pair of beautiful, glassy blues, and for a moment Jim thought that Sebastian was still drunk or at least hungover from his stag night the evening before.

But then he realised that the glassiness came from quiet tears, and Jim almost couldn’t stop a happy and relieved laugh bubbling up in his chest, and he just about kept it past his lips. So this was what unconditional happiness felt like. No stress, no rush. Just he and Sebastian against the rest of the world. And it wasn’t even a dream this time. Not that he had dreamed that often about it, but the thought had occurred every now and again. Once or twice. Or perhaps he was lying to himself and was this what he had wanted all along.

Jim could feel Sebastian’s lips pressed to his knuckles, and there was a pang of sudden fear that he was going to let go, but instead the blond squeezed his fingers and twined them together, holding on to him.

“I’ve got you,” Sebastian whispered to him, and Jim realised that it was how things would always be from now on. He didn’t want anyone else to whisper that to him ever again. It was going to be Sebastian and him from then on. Jim and Sebastian. Moriarty and Moran. And nothing, nothing would ever come between them without going unpunished.

 

“I’ve always got you.”


End file.
